


A Different Kind of Prayer

by GaleWrites



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23606236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaleWrites/pseuds/GaleWrites
Summary: An unfortunate Oxford student caught up in St Scholastica Riot of 1355 prays for salvation and gets a bit more than he bargained for
Relationships: Diligent Medieval University Student/Badboy Poet Medieval University Student (M/M)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	A Different Kind of Prayer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ceci_n_est_pas_un_corbeau](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceci_n_est_pas_un_corbeau/gifts).



> Set during the St Scholastica riot in Oxford, started when a few belligerent students decided to take offense to the quality of wine they were served. Click here for more info ---> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Scholastica_Day_riot

**Oh, Saint Scholastica, save me from the follies of my fellow students.**

I should truthfully know better than to go to a rowdy pub, especially on such a day as your own holy day. I should have stayed in to deliberate on spiritual matters, as you yourself did. I will make whatever penance can be devised if only I might be guided through this mess.

Instead, I allowed myself to be lured out to sin, and now I fear for my life. I do not know what inspired the fighting all around me, but I do know that there is already talk of the dead. One minute we were having a quiet drink, the next someone was thrown onto my table, and in my eagerness to escape I fumbled, allowing myself to be caught and quite thoroughly pummeled by a few town men who were all too eager to take out their anger on me.   
  
I have taken refuge in the churchyard, as angry men have come and gone from the church and it’s tower several times already. I can only hope tempers calm as night falls. Please grant them wisdom and peace, so that we may all get through this with a minimum of bloodshed.

  
  


**St Alban, thank you for your guidance and protect and keep us from those who wish to harm those who study the Holy Word**

You have truly blessed me in sending me Henri. I fear I would have been sent to God, were it not for his timely appearance. He appeared to me like one of the angels, beautiful and smiling, holding a hand out to me. Truthfully I initially thought he might be my guardian angel himself, come from heaven to guide me. Now I know that he is a man, but still heaven sent. Without even asking my name, he guided me past the mob to a stable loft that he assured me would be safe.   
  
In Henri, you have given me not only a valiant protector but a worthy companion. Being trapped in the hay for an indefinite amount of time could have been quite a trial, but having such a charming, well read companion has truly made it a delight. He took to reading me his own poetry to soothe me, as I truthfully could not stop crying. His work is quite good, if perhaps a bit off color in places.    
  
Henri has been very interested in myself and my life, although my own life as a fourth son on my way to a priesthood has not been nearly as interesting as his own life as a travelling student and poet. Still, it feels nice to have such a worldly, well dressed man pay so much attention to me. The only attention I get most of the time is that of the fathers and of my professors, none of whom have such a knack for making me feel valued. Vanity is a sin, I know, but I can’t help feeling a bit proud of my accomplishments when he tells me in such a tone, with those beautiful eyes focused only on me, that I must be unusually intelligent.

Please, guide us safely through this crisis and ensure that no harm comes to my valiant protector.

  
  


**St Jude, guide us through this desperate time and let my Henri not become lost.**

We hear the bells tolling in the church regularly, as well as the roar of the crowds. We have also, unfortunately, grown familiar to the roaring of our bellies. I argued that we could sustain ourselves with prayer, but Henri was determined to take care of us, and left me in the stable loft to find some food. We do not know how long we will be trapped here, and I confess I am not certain I have the strength of spirit to risk death by starvation. I am well used to eating simple meals, but I do not think I have ever gone even an entire day without food. It has only been perhaps a day, but the hollowness I feel makes even a simple supper of bread and water seem a feast.   
  
Henri, as well, seemed more than a little desperate for some food, although he says this is not the first time he’s gone without. He told me that he’d rather not have to do it again, if he could avoid it. I will be glad if he can find us something to eat, but I fear for him in the face of the mobs. He does not dress at all like a student at present, but his vibrant green hose and silk tunic mark him just as easily as a student’s robe, even if he does not speak to reveal his clearly French accent.

I can imagine it all too clearly, a small smirk of defiance on his beautiful face, his hair tousled from sneaking around, his long, graceful fingers reaching to open a door to hide when the mob approaches behind him-   
  
I must not let such flights of fancy take me. I must have faith that Henri will return and that we will continue to be safe. Please, guide us both through this turmoil!

  
  


**St Michael, keep me from temptation**

Never have I been more shocked than when I saw a beautiful woman climbing up into the hayloft with me! I thought I had surely been discovered, was already trying to brace myself for the torments to follow, when the beautiful woman smiled at me and revealed himself to be my Henri again, triumphantly carrying a bundle of food and a few bottles of wine. He had disguised himself as a woman from town to avoid notice.   
  
This was, perhaps, wise, but… oh St Michael the sight did some decidedly unholy things to my body. I have to assume that my lack of contact with women has been perhaps a bit too dramatic, if the sight of a beautiful woman could do such things to me all on it’s own.

And he… he could tell, somehow. His smile only grew, and I confess all I could do was blush in confusion when he pulled me onto his lap to tease me. I do not understand how he could affect me in such a manner even after I’d realized he was not a woman.   
  
Under the circumstances, I’d stashed my robe away and was wearing only my breeches and shirt, so I’m afraid my reactions were alarmingly obvious. Seated on his lap…. His were just as obvious to me. He said to me then that perhaps I should do something for him, since he’d risked his life twice now to help me.   
  
How could I say no to that? I owed him my life, and if he wanted things I’d never dared to dream of… could I refuse? Did I dare? I did not think that he could deny me food or even throw me out of his safe haven, but I did not truly know him. Certainly there were plenty of martyrs who’d sacrificed themselves to protect their virtue but I… was not strong enough to risk doing so.   
  
I allowed him to kiss me and press against me as he held me in his lap. I could feel his firm length against me, and I did not even try to resist. Once he had kissed me so thoroughly I could barely breathe, I allowed him to direct me on how best to stroke him to achieve completion, and I did so without hesitation.   
  
I did all of these things to save my life, but… god protect me from temptation, I did them more because I wanted to. I still want to. As I pray I can see him laying out in satisfaction, his simple woolen dress bunched around his waist and his breeches unfastened. I… I find myself tempted to more depravity, and I am afraid.

**Forgive me father, for I have sinned.**

I have sinned more in the past two weeks than I have in the entire rest of my life, Father. I have taken the Lord’s name in vain, I have neglected my prayers, I have allowed myself to be tempted into excessive pride and vanity. I have neglected my studies to engage in gluttony and sloth, eating and drinking and lounging to excess instead of attending to my academic and spiritual pursuits.   
  
But… most of all, Father, I have been guilty of a most perverse and pernicious lust. I… recently had cause to take shelter for my own safety, in the company of a strange man who helped me evade capture. He is… impossibly beautiful, with soulful blue eyes, dark hair, soft, fair skin, and the most beautiful pair of hands. Musician’s hands, although I never saw him play an instrument. Long, beautiful fingers that made every gesture, every movement look like a dance. I could just sit there and watch him write for hours, every single letter a new temptation. Once, to tease me, he bade me lay in bed unclothed for what must have been hours as he wrote poems across my skin, then read them all to me, before he would-   
  
Right. Sin. Yes. As mentioned, this beautiful stranger tempted me to succumb to lust. I’d never… been interested, before. I thought celibacy would be an easy task, and I pitied men who had to marry, succumbing to that base sinful urge for the sake of procreation. The idea of laying with a woman was…. Well, unpleasant to me.   
  
But Henri… changed my mind. He… induced me to perform certain favors for him in exchange for my safety. I should have put a stop to it there and then, but I was afraid of what would happen should I be exposed to the mob. I knew, of course, in my heart of hearts that he would not, but… I was afraid, and I complied to save myself. That would have been sin enough but…   
  
I allowed it to continue. No, I encouraged it to continue. I wanted him to touch me with those beautiful hands of his, like he’d made me touch him. Just the memory of his hand on my- Well. Yes. We were trapped together for several days, sustaining ourselves on wine, bread, and dried fruits. Aside from demanding such… favors, he was so kind to me, soothing my fears and  speaking to me for hours about all manner of things, so that I would not dwell on our danger.

And yes, a lot of that distraction became physical as things went on. When I became too afraid to be reasoned with, he would draw me in with a kiss, sometimes even start to touch me to distract me. Once, he pinned me down to the floor with his own body and… took me into his mouth. I hadn’t been aware that was something a person could do, but it felt… oh, like something out of a dream. I can’t fathom anything ever feeling so good again. I had to return the favor, when he was done, and he had me kneel before him to do it and-   
  
Sorry, Father. Even after we could return to our lives, we continued meeting in secret, coming to each other’s rooms to commit indecent acts. Over and over we met to engage our secret pleasures over a bottle of wine. He even… I even allowed him to…

…

…

…

My apologies. My point is, I continued to meet with him and engage in sinful acts until he told me he was leaving yesterday. It was… very sudden. He said he’d intended to leave the day after the rioting started, but he’d wanted to see me safe and recovered from my ordeal. I… appreciated the concern, of course, even though we had done so many sinful things. It is likely for the best that he’s gone. I must attend to the damage done to my immortal soul, after all, and better myself to truly become worthy of being god’s servant.

  
  


Is it a sin to still miss him?


End file.
